


Before an Angel Falls

by slartibartfast



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slartibartfast/pseuds/slartibartfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an angel falls, its wings turn black. If another angel finds one of its kind with even the hint of darkness on the wings, they must cast it down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before an Angel Falls

Before an angel falls, its wings turn black. Doubt seeps in and imperfection rots at the purity of its soul. They are extensions of an angel's grace, born of God and goodness and obedience. When an angel begins to fall they become shadows, deep and dark, obscured from the light of Heaven.

If another angel finds one of its kind with even the hint of darkness on the wings, they must cast it down. Those are the rules and the orders from their father and creator. If the angel falls, it will become an impure human and an abomination in the eyes of the Lord; to destroy it is a merciful act.

Castiel doesn't just _know_ all of this. He feels it in his soul and in his grace with the utter certainty that comes with God's word. There should be nothing that could shake that faith.

But Hanael is the exception to a lot of his rules.

 

Once, long ago even by the standards of those used to the timelessness of Heaven, Castiel came upon a falling angel with black wings arched high enough to blot out the sun. At first, Castiel believed him to be alone and approached him quickly with the wrath of God in his step but when he was closer, he felt the first hint of confusion.

Hanael, his leader and superior, stood tall with her head tilted up towards the shadowy feathers. As Castiel watched, she touched one with her fingertips. She didn't recoil.

She seemed caught out when she sensed Castiel's presence. Her hand dropped down and her head turned. The other angel met his gaze steadily. When Hanael backed away, Castiel knew he did not have much time and this was not the moment for hesitation; the falling angel must be defeated before it had chance to bring God's kingdom to shame, before it could sully humankind. He surged forwards and ripped out its grace and didn't heed the scream that filled the Heavens. Hanael didn't make a sound, just watched him impassively.

Castiel held the fading grace outstretched in his hand as the ground opened beneath the fallen angel's feet. The scream faded to nothing in seconds but Castiel could still hear it ringing in his ears.

There was silence, and then there wasn't.

"You should have let him do it himself," said Hanael. Her voice was strange, slightly out of tune; there was something in the tone that Castiel had never heard before from an angel. "Azazel will go straight to Hell."

"It is where he belongs," replied Castiel. He burnt with that certainty, but it withered when Hanael turned from him.

 

"You cannot kill me, Castiel," said Hanael. Her wings are folded behind her, black as night. Castiel knows she is ashamed - he can see it in her soul - but her voice is as solid and confident as ever. "You will not try."

"I do not need to kill you." Castiel's eyes settle on the shadows where the light should be. "You are losing your power."

There is a silence, and then Hanael turns from him. Her head is low and her wings stretched out, casting darkness onto the ground. "Then do it. Take my grace. I have seen you do it before. I saw the delight in your eyes."

"That was not delight," Castiel replies. He takes a step closer, fascinated; he had not got a chance to see Azazel's wings up close once they changed. They shine even now, glossy in the face of the sun. "What happened was necessary."

"Why do you hesitate?" she asks when no blow strikes her. An instant later, she is barely a foot from him, head tilted and wings still unfolded, defiant. "You know I am weak. You know you must cast me down. What are you waiting for?"

"Why do you doubt, Hanael?" he asks. "You are perfect. You are God's warrior; one of the best. I _know_ your soul longs for Heaven every second you are down here on Earth and yet you choose to give it up. _Why_?"

"Because I watch them," she says. Her voice became quiet. "I have seen God's creations and the gift of free will and I want it. Something is rotting Heaven, Castiel. You must see that. I cannot follow orders that draw us further from God any longer. I cannot watch humanity suffer for it."

Castiel frowns. "But then you will suffer yourself."

"It is better than this."

There is nothing he can do to save her, to whiten her wings and purify her soul. She is as good as gone, fallen in all but body. This could never be the Hanael he once respected and yet... he could not see such a noble and beautiful angel fall to Hell. He sighs. "If you remove your grace yourself, you will be born a human child."

She is silent for a long moment, long enough that Castiel is not sure she had understood his meaning. The wind is picking up around them; it moves through Castiel but around Hanael, rustling her feathers. She is halfway to Earth already. He is ready to speak again when she reaches out, strong hands pressing to his shoulder, a touch he could not immediately understand.

"Thank you, Castiel."

And as she disappears, he realises the touch was goodbye.


End file.
